Once Upon A Time
by Melodious329
Summary: An amalgamation of several classic fairy tales with Highlander characters. AU Mac rescues Methos, but the journey doesn't end there. D/M SLASH
1. Chapter 1

Once upon a time there was a boy named Methos

Author's Note: This story is a remix of Anatala's Cinder Methos. If you would like to read that story you can private message me with your email address and I will email you the link. won't let you post other websites. This story is a retelling of several classic fairy tales with Highlander characters and is meant to sound like a fairy tale as well. As always, reviews are much appreciated. I know AU stories aren't popular but…

Once upon a time there was a boy named Methos. He had a good life. He had two parents who loved him and each other. They taught him many things and he learnt even more from the many books in his parents' library. But one day tragedy struck.

There was a carriage accident. Methos was thrown from the carriage and knocked unconscious. When the boy came to, his godfather, Joseph Dawson was there, and he told Methos that both of his parents had died in the accident. Methos was ten years old.

He stayed with Joe until his stepbrothers came for him. Methos had never before met his stepbrothers but he had known that his father had had a previous wife and three sons. He also knew that all of his father's children, including Methos himself, were adopted.

Things changed drastically with his stepbrothers in the house. Kronos was the oldest and he ruled the household with an iron fist. Methos was no longer allowed to leave the house, not even to ride his favorite pale horse. The books in the library were sold, and Methos was moved out of his room and forced to sleep in the kitchen. He was not allowed any new clothes or blankets and so Methos slept on the stones in front of the kitchen's hearth for warmth.

Kronos also got rid of all the servants, many of whom Methos had known all of his life. Methos was then obliged to do all of the housework and cater to his brothers' every demand. Kronos left it to his brother Caspian to punish the boy. Caspian was very cruel and took every opportunity to beat and strap Methos. Kronos often had to admonish Caspian not to beat the boy so severely that Methos could not work.

Silas, the third stepbrother, was occasionally kind to Methos. He would give the boy extra food or put salve on his wounds. Big and slow, Silas spent most of his time outside with the horses and farm animals.

So life continued and Methos grew into a tall but lean young man. And then everything changed again.

That day began the same as all the days preceding it. Methos woke, stiff and cold and hungry. The fresh welts on his back smarted as his rough shirt moved across them. Methos still did not know what he had done to warrant the punishment. In the last ten years, he had learned how his stepbrothers wanted things done.

Slowly he got to his feet and went about his daily chores. That night, after dinner, the doorbell rang.

Duncan MacLeod waited on the other side of the door. It was a dark and stormy night, and he and his cousin, Connor, were seeking shelter from the rain. At least that was the story he would tell.

In actuality, he and Connor had been sent to this house by Joseph Dawson. You see, Dawson was a Watcher. He had been watching Methos' father but after his death, Joe was reassigned to Duncan MacLeod. Duncan found out about Joe when Hunters killed one of Duncan's immortal friends. Over time, Duncan and Joe had formed a strong friendship. Joe often gave Duncan a heads up about 'evil' immortals but this time it was personal. Joe had also been a good friend of Methos' father.

Joe was convinced that Methos' stepbrothers were responsible for their father's death. He also knew how poorly Methos was being treated. He sent the two Highlanders to take the boy away.

Methos hurried to open the door. He stepped back to let two men in out of the rain. Methos opened his mouth to speak and stilled, struck dumb at the sight of the dark haired man before him. Methos had not had the opportunity to meet many men since his parents' death, but he was certain that this man was uncommonly beautiful. The man had chiseled features, full, sensual lips, and large, dark, puppy-dog eyes. His long brown hair was down and dripping water onto his collar.

Duncan was similarly affected. He knew that the young man before him was Methos, but he had not expected for the young man to be so…beautiful. Sharp features that somehow blended effortlessly together, a perfect cupid's bow mouth, and green…no, gold…no, large doe eyes that changed color in the light. His brown hair was short but long enough to fall untidily over his forehead.

Methos shook himself out of his stupor first. Remembering his role, he offered to take the men's coats, dropping his eyes and making sure not to touch the man's dark-skinned fingers. Then he led them into the drawing room where his stepbrothers were waiting.

Duncan was watching the lean man walking in front of them, noticing the unconscious grace of Methos' movements, when he felt his cousin's hand on his arm. Connor had noticed how the younger immortal had stared at the boy they had come to collect. He was worried that his cousin's romantic, bleeding-heart nature would interfere with the effective execution of their mission.

Duncan simply shook off the hand and his cousin's concerns, and focused on the immortal presences that he could now feel. Methos opened the door and he got his first look at the enemy.

Kronos, Duncan immediately recognized from Joe's description. The long scar crossing the immortal's right eyes was a dead giveaway. He focused on Silas next, knowing the man by his immense stature. Caspian was recognizable by the many tattoos that covered the shaved portions of the immortal's skull and the sadistic gleam in his eyes.

"We didn't come for a fight," Duncan said quickly. He and his cousin were outnumbered and neither Scotsman trusted the other three immortals to play by the rules. "We are simply seeking shelter from the rain."

Kronos' gaze was measuring, and Silas and Caspian waited silently for their brother's decision. Then the scarred man smiled, the expression not at all comforting.

"Then please, accept our hospitality for the night. We were just going to have some tea. Have a seat and join us."

Five men moved toward the couches and armchairs then. Duncan hadn't noticed when Methos had left the room, but the lean man re-entered then, pushing a tea cart ahead of him.

Duncan bristled at how Methos was being treated as a servant. He noticed how threadbare the young man's clothes were and, under them, he could tell how thin Methos was.

Introductions were made as the tea was served, Kronos neglecting to introduce his stepbrother. Methos served the two guests first, still taking care not to look in Duncan's eyes.

But when Methos went to give Caspian his cup, some of the hot liquid accidentally spilled over the edge and onto his stepbrother's hand.

Caspian jumped up, swearing, and then backhanded Methos. Duncan and Connor both rose to their feet.

Methos immediately apologized, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to spill." Tears sprung to his eyes and his hand shook as Methos wiped the blood from his lip.

Slowly, Kronos stood up himself. "Caspian apologize."

"I am sorry, I struck without thinking."

Methos ducked his head, ashamed at having the beautiful stranger as a witness to both his error and his reprimand. "It's alright. I should have been more careful."

Duncan and his cousin sat back down. The younger Highlander was seething in silent fury. He could see the shame on Methos' face as clearly as the blood that was smeared across the man's chin, and he wanted to do worse to Caspian. Connor noticed and skillfully redirected the conversation.

Methos quietly left the drawing room, leaving the five immortals talking about such topics as their recent travels and their estates. He carefully made up two more bedrooms and finished cleaning up from dinner. He was just settling down to go to sleep when he heard the door open.

Duncan stepped quietly into the kitchen. It was late. Hopefully the stepbrothers were asleep. Connor meanwhile was waiting for his signal. The younger Highlander hated to sneak away in the night like a thief, but he couldn't see any other way to get Methos away from those other hateful immortals.

Methos started to get up and ask what he could do for the man, but Duncan interrupted him. "Don't get up." He continued to stare in bewilderment as the man sat down on the floor beside him.

Duncan smiled, trying to lessen the young man's trepidation. He couldn't help reaching out to lightly touch Methos' split lip.

Methos was surprised by the touch and by the gentleness of it. He jerked back unintentionally and Duncan dropped his hand.

"How often does your brother hit you?" Duncan asked softly.

"Please don't make so much of it…" Methos turned his face away from the other man's probing eyes.

Duncan reached out to stroke the man's lean back, wanting to comfort Methos. He couldn't miss the hiss of pain that issued from the pale lips however. Moving to his knees, he began to pull the young man's shirt up, ignoring the protestations. Duncan was afraid that he already knew what he would find.

"What are you doing?" Methos asked, mortified. He attempted to bat the other man's hands away to no effect.

The younger Highlander looked upon the young man's back in horror. The red welts were vivid on the pale skin and Duncan could see that some had bled.

Methos stayed very still, trying to even stop breathing. The man behind him had gone very quiet and Methos knew from experience about the rage that lay underneath that silence. He did his best not to incur that wrath.

"We're leaving."

"What?" The seeming non-sequitor confused the younger man.

"Joe sent us to get you out of here. We're leaving. Tonight."

Methos just stared at the man in bewilderment. Suddenly Duncan felt the presence of another immortal and he stood, anticipating his cousin.

It was Caspian that walked in though. "You're not taking him anywhere." The other immortal was already holding his sword. Duncan realized then that his katana was still out in the hallway with his coat. He had left it there as proof of his good intentions. Now he was regretting that decision.

Methos simply stared at the sword in his stepbrother's hand. He didn't know what was going on, but he knew that Caspian was threatening Mr. MacLeod. Methos didn't think, he grabbed the kettle of water from the hearth and threw it at his stepbrother.

It was the distraction that Duncan needed. He immediately ran to the front hallway, grabbing his coat and heading outside. Caspian followed not far behind despite that his face was still healing.

The battle was fierce but thankfully brief. Caspian was overzealous in his attack, hammering away at Duncan who bided his time, waiting for his opening. When it came, he struck without mercy. The quickening was surprisingly strong.

When it was over, he looked up into Methos' stunned face. He only had a moment to look though, before he felt the presences of several other immortals. They were almost run over by horses then.

Duncan stumbled to his feet, pulling Methos with him by the hand. He looked up to see Connor already on his horse and holding the reins to Duncan's horse.

"Hurry up."

Rolling his eyes at his cousin's characteristic shortness, Duncan dropped Methos' hand and jumped into the saddle.

Methos backed away then, certain that he was going to be left behind and terrified of Kronos' wrath. When Duncan extended his hand to help Methos up, the younger man was astonished, and grateful.

As they rode away, all three men clearly saw, Kronos and Silas standing by their fallen brother with their swords. Though they were too far away to hear, they could well imagine the curses and epithets that were shouted at them.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I feel terrible posting another story when I have two unfinished ones (actually I have half a dozen unfinished stories on my computer). But I have learned that you can't force a story, sometimes the best thing that you can do is to let a story ruminate in your mind and come back to it later. That being said, if you're waiting for another story to be finished, feel free to pester me about it.

They rode swiftly back to Duncan's estate, worried that the other two stepbrothers would follow them. When they didn't show, Duncan was even more worried that the two brothers were taking the time to regroup, to plan.

Methos' mind was in turmoil. He was astonished by his own actions and confused about what had happened to Caspian. It almost looked as if Mr. MacLeod _absorbed _his stepbrother's energy after death.

What kind of man was Mr. MacLeod? He didn't know the man at all but here he was, running away with the man. But Methos remembered the way the man had touched him, so gently. Even now as they were fleeing for their lives, Methos was acutely aware of the feel of the man that he was holding onto. Methos was confused by the emotions he was flooded with. He both wanted to snuggle closer and pull away.

Methos had been alone so long, he didn't understand this desire that caused heat to curl in his belly, this _need_, for what he didn't even know.

Suddenly the house was in view, causing Methos' fear to bloom until it seemed to fill his chest and he could barely breathe. Methos slid down from the horse when Duncan stopped it in front of the door.

The door was the whole of Methos' vision. He didn't notice the two immortals dismounting behind him or Connor then leading the horses away. The door opened.

"Joe!" Methos ran forward, throwing his arms around the older gentleman. When Joe's arms came up around his own waist, Methos started crying. He cried as he had not allowed himself to cry in ten years, great heart-wrenching sobs that shook his slender frame and had him clinging to Joe's shoulders. Methos cried for everything that he had lost and everything that he had endured.

As the tears slowed, Methos just felt exhausted. He tried to back away, not wanting Joe to have to bear his weight, but he stumbled…Duncan was there.

Duncan scooped the slighter man up into his arms, trying to be careful of Methos' injuries. He winced himself at the low moan that Methos issued before the man tucked his face into Duncan's shoulder.

He carried Methos down the hall and into the room directly across from his own. Carefully Duncan laid the curled form on the already turned down bed. Methos stirred then, wondering what he was doing on such a soft bed but Duncan gentled him, petting Methos' soft hair.

"Take off your shirt so I can put some salve on your back."

Methos was too drained to resist and his efforts to remove his shirt were ineffectual. Duncan peeled Methos' shirt off and practically arranged the young man on the bed, moving Methos onto his stomach with his head on the pillow. By the time Duncan was through administering to the wounds, Methos was fast asleep. Duncan removed the young man's shoes and pulled the covers up to Methos' waist.

Duncan paused outside Methos' room. He was surprised at the effect the reserved young man was having on him. When Methos had cried, Duncan's eyes had also been wet and now, at the sight of Methos sleeping peacefully, Duncan felt warm and contented.

Certainly this was not the first time that Duncan had felt desire for another man and he well admitted that he wanted Methos, wanted to bury his length inside that pale body, but his feelings had gone beyond simple lust. Was it possible to fall in love at first sight?

Methos woke the next morning and simply luxuriated in the feel of the soft mattress and smooth bed linens. The morning sun shone in through the room's two windows and he wondered how he had managed to sleep so long. Normally he woke before dawn to get started on his chores. Now he had nothing to do.

The door opened unexpectedly, startling Methos who pushed himself up to his knees and twisted himself around to see.

Two men entered the room, carrying buckets of water. He could hear the woman long before she entered the room, ordering the men about and commenting loudly on pretty much everything.

The woman, whom Methos guessed was MacLeod's housekeeper, was short and round, with a mess of dirty blonde hair piled on top of her head. She turned to Methos then as if only just noticing that he was awake, as if he could have continued to sleep through the noise they had made.

"Oh, good you're awake. I brought you some warm bathwater, thought it might…Oh my heavens! What happened to your back?! You poor dear, Mr. MacLeod forewarned me that you had had a rough time of it lately, that you'd need some extra food and such but I never…well…" She suddenly whirled around and strode into the bathroom.

Methos didn't know what to do, what to say. For ten years he had had no one to talk to, no one who gave a damn about him or his welfare and now there seemed to be a preponderance of persons who were overly concerned. He was gratified, but still ashamed. Surely he wasn't worthy of such interest and he was uncomfortable being the center of attention.

"There I put some soothing bath salts in. You go ahead and hop in now, dearie. It'll only sting a little at first. I'm Mrs. Carmichael; if you need anything just ask for me."

With a smile the woman left the room closing the door. Despite that, Methos could still hear the woman's voice as she walked down the hallway.

Sliding out of bed, he went to the bathroom. He was awed by the sight of the tub with steam billowing from it. For the last ten years, he had bathed himself with a washcloth in the kitchen with cold water.

Quickly he stripped off his pants, blushing at his vague remembrances of Mr. MacLeod taking off his shirt last night and tucking him into bed. Methos felt like he had died and gone to heaven when he stepped into the bath. The water did sting his back as he sat down, but he didn't care, the pleasure far outweighed the pain.

He stayed there in the bath until the water became tepid. He wondered again that no one had come for him, wanting him to do something to earn this respite.

Methos was just stepping out when he heard the door open again. He tried to pull on the robe that Mrs. Carmichael had left for him, but he hadn't pulled it closed by the time Mr. MacLeod stepped into the bathroom.

Duncan stopped at the sight before him. Methos blushed hotly under that avid gaze and pulled the robe closed. Stepping forward then, Duncan opened the robe again, exposing Methos' body to his gaze.

He couldn't help it, he was transfixed. Methos' body though lean and undernourished was beautiful, pale skin covering clearly delineated musculature, strong broad shoulders tapering to a tiny waist and powerful thighs, hairless except for his groin where Duncan's eyes were drawn. The lax cock twitched under his gaze.

Methos turned his face away. He was afraid, feeling vulnerable and exposed. No one had ever looked at him the way that Mr. MacLeod was looking at his body. Methos had often been viewed as an object but never with this peculiar mixture of possession and desire. He didn't want to be possessed, he wanted to be loved. And yet his body was responding, becoming hot and edgy.

When Methos' slight frame began to tremble, Duncan felt contrite. He brought the robe together and fastened it. He stroked his fingers over a prominent cheekbone before gently turning Methos' face back toward him. The young man's eyes were golden in his nervousness. Duncan wondered what color they would be when Methos was aroused.

"Shh, love, it's alright. I admit that I want you, I want to take you to my bed and make love to you. But I'll not force you. You have no reason to be afraid. I'll give you time, as much time as you need, so that we can get to know each other."

Methos nodded and dropped his face. Mr. MacLeod's words had affected him as much as the man's gaze had. He didn't know what he wanted and he was surprised that anyone would care about his feelings. Mr. MacLeod was certainly attractive, but he didn't want to _be _with anyone like that unless he trusted them, loved them. Methos still felt afraid and confused by his current situation.

Duncan's fingers underneath his chin lifted Methos' face again. The Highlander kissed Methos, soft at first and then deeper as the younger man opened his mouth on a gasp. Duncan ran his tongue over Methos' lips and then suckled the bottom one before pulling away.

Methos kept his eyes closed as the kiss ended. It was the first time that he had ever been kissed. His heart was pounding and he felt as if his stomach had dropped out of his body. Mr. MacLeod's lips were so soft, the kiss so tender, Methos found himself wanting the moment never to end.

When Methos opened his eyes, Duncan brushed his thumb over the other man's lips and then leaned in for a short peck. He smiled, thinking that he would get Methos into his bed yet. Strange, that they had only just met and he was already thinking how empty his life would seem without Methos.

"I left some clean clothes on the bed for you. They're Connor's so they shouldn't be that big on you. Come on downstairs for breakfast when you're ready." Duncan spoke before leaving the room and heading downstairs himself to wait for his guest.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Is anybody reading this? Nobody has a comment, loves it, hates it…?

Methos crept down the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible. He didn't actually know why, he was just used to keeping out of the way, trying to be unnoticed. Of course, when he entered the breakfast room, all eyes turned toward him, making Methos feel exquisitely uncomfortable.

Duncan noticed the young man's discomfort immediately. Methos stood just inside the doorway, with his eyes down, looking like he wanted to bolt and wringing his hands. Duncan didn't know what to do to make Methos lose that hunted look in the gold eyes. The immortal stood, moving to Methos' side and greeting their guest with a smile.

"Come, let's get you some food."

"Oh no, I'll get it, you just sit right down." Mrs. Carmichael's voice accosted them, startling Methos who looked to Duncan for help. That fact made the immortal smile and press the young man closer to his side.

He led Methos to the table and sat him next to Duncan's own place. Methos looked up to see Joe and he smiled, but then his eyes fell on the fair-haired young man from the previous night and Methos dropped his eyes to the table again. The other Mr. MacLeod did not look happy to see him there.

A plate slid under his nose. Actually Mrs. Carmichael placed _two _plates in front of him. Methos stared at them in dismay. The food looked and smelled wonderful, but he would never be able to eat all of it. But if he didn't, it would upset his hosts.

Once again, Duncan noticed the other man's mood and attempted to reassure Methos. "Don't worry. You don't have to eat it all. We know you're not used to this kind of food, or this much. Just eat what you want."

Connor watched as his cousin gentled the young man and Methos began to eat very tentatively. The older Highlander couldn't help viewing their guest critically, the young man was like a wild animal that had been caged and now was suspicious of his newfound freedom, liable to snap even at the comforting hand.

He could clearly see that his younger cousin was smitten and determined to lure the guarded young man into his bed. But Duncan hadn't yet told Methos about immortality or the young man's own pre-immortal status. Two immortals in love were a target and Connor knew his cousin, knew that Duncan would attempt to protect and coddle his younger partner. It would be dangerous, for both of them.

Methos' eating had slowed already, after years of subsisting on milk and hard bread, the rich food did not sit well in his stomach. But he had taken the time while eating to bolster his courage. He had some questions.

"Mr. MacLeod…"

"Duncan, please, call me Duncan." The handsome man's warm smile was disconcerting to Methos. He still didn't understand why the man was being so nice to him, it couldn't just be that he wanted into Methos' pants, could it?

Duncan could tell that Methos was suspicious of his kindness, but there was nothing that he could do. Methos would learn to trust him, in time.

"Duncan," Methos continued slowly. "What is it that I'm supposed to do?" Duncan simply stared at him, uncomprehending. "To earn my keep, what is my place here?"

Duncan nodded. "What would you like to do?"

Desperation colored Methos' voice as tears sprang to his eyes. "I don't know." This gentleness was more painful than his stepbrothers' cruelty. He had had dreams once, plans for the future, activities that he enjoyed doing, but now…he had lived without hope for so long, he didn't know if he was still capable of the emotion.

Duncan realized his error, understanding suddenly that Methos did not know how to respond to freedom. Joe spoke up then, remembering how the frightened young man had been as a child, so curious and questioning, happy and bold. "Why don't you come with me. I think I know of something that you would enjoy."

Methos ducked his head and simply nodded. He was still confused that they apparently weren't expecting him to do any work, but he acquiesced to the other man's wishes and stood, wanting to hide how emotional he'd become. God, he couldn't stop crying, it was like a floodgate had been opened and he couldn't get it closed again.

Joe stood up as well, leaning on his cane. In the past ten years, the older mortal had developed arthritis in his knees that hampered his movements, but he was not about to let it slow him down. He gripped Methos' elbow with his free hand and led him down another hallway.

Duncan followed the two other men, realizing what Joe was planning when the older mortal stopped in front of the closed double doors. Joe opened them with a flourish and gestured for Methos to step inside.

Methos looked astonished. He stepped into the middle of the room and looked around it like a kid in a candy store, except they were in a library. Duncan shared a look with Joe, both men smiling at Methos' joy. They both knew that the young man had had precious little joy in his life in the last ten years.

After a long moment, Methos moved forward, running his hands over the spines of the books like they were a lover. He wandered around the room, occasionally pulling a book out and reading a few pages, smiling at familiar passages. Such a simple pleasure, Duncan thought, and yet another example of all that Kronos had taken away from young man.

Methos spent the rest of the day in the library, Joe and Duncan wandering in and out periodically. For a while it was like the last ten years had never happened as Methos lost himself in the written word.

Eventually Duncan came in to pry the books away so that Methos could come to dinner. The young man blushed furiously and apologized for _wasting_ the entire day.

"It wasn't wasted," Duncan assured him. "Knowledge is very important and reading makes you happy. Perhaps you'd like to go to university…some day, you don't have to decide anything right now. Here, you can take a few books to your room."

Methos still appeared suspicious but was obviously excited at the prospect of the books being available to him later. He smiled, that genuine smile that made Duncan's heart skip. Duncan walked Methos down to his room and then back to the dining room.

Mrs. Carmichael loaded Methos' plate again. They talked of inconsequential things, Duncan wanting to make Methos more comfortable by drawing attention away from the young man. Connor wanted to talk about getting ready for Kronos' revenge but didn't want to do so in front of Methos so he held his tongue. Methos didn't speak but he did seem to be avidly following the conversation.

After dinner, they congregated in the drawing room and Duncan served them all a glass of port. Methos had never had any alcohol before and he was already feeling a little warm from the wine at dinner. Duncan sat next to him on the love seat, wanting to stick near the other man.

He noticed about a half hour later that Methos seemed very sleepy after the drink. Smiling, he said their goodnights and led the young man back to his room. Connor glared at him, irritated that he was being ignored.

Duncan led Methos over to the bed and pushed him to sit on the edge. "Take off your shirt, so I can put more salve on."

Methos' fingers were feeling slightly uncoordinated and he struggled with the buttons of the borrowed shirt. Duncan laughed softly and took over the job himself. He couldn't help commenting, "This seems familiar, didn't we do this last night?"

It chastened the younger man. Methos pulled away and attempted the job again. "I'm sorry, you must have other things to do."

Duncan lifted Methos' face. "Nothing more important to me than you."

The Highlander watched as a tinge of pink crept into Methos' countenance. The other man looked so adorable, Duncan had to lean in for a kiss. This time, Methos responded eagerly, opening his mouth to invite Duncan in and even meeting the Highlander's tongue with his own.

Duncan brought up on hand to caress the pale chest, letting his fingers play over a suddenly taut nipple. Methos pulled away from the kiss with a gasp. The hand playing at his breast was causing all kinds of strange sensations. His breath quickened and Methos could feel his member hardening.

"Please…please…" he whispered though he didn't know what he was pleading for.

Duncan was entranced at the sight of his dark skinned hand on the pale skin. He leaned over and let his lips close over a rose colored nipple, suckling and laving the pebbled flesh. Pulling away, he looked at the effects his ministrations had had on Methos. The young man was breathing heavily and his eyes were slightly glazed looking. And Methos' eyes were green, emerald green in his passion.

Methos reached out a hand, running his fingertips lightly down the buttons of Duncan's linen shirt. The older man smiled, understanding Methos' unspoken question. Duncan unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it from his shoulders, watching Methos' expression.

Methos stared at Duncan's naked chest, the well developed musculature, the dusky skin covered by wiry curls. He couldn't help reaching out a tentative hand to touch, gratified when Duncan responded by letting out a soft sigh.

Duncan leaned forward, capturing the other man's mouth again and pressing close, wanting to feel Methos' skin against his own.

Methos felt the softness of Duncan's skin, the coarseness of the chest hair, the strength of Duncan's arms holding him close, and…the length of the other man's erection pressed against his belly. The younger man pulled back, fear cutting through the fog of desire he had been immersed in. "Stop, please."

Duncan knew that something was wrong before Methos spoke. He had felt the sudden tension in Methos' body and knew that things were moving too fast for the inexperienced young man. He stroked the back of his knuckles along Methos' cheek before speaking.

"Don't worry, love. Slow, we'll take it slow. Now lay down and I'll put this salve on."

Obediently, Methos lay down on his stomach. Duncan spread the salve on the welts again trying to be as gentle as possible. Before leaving, he ruffled Methos' hair playfully.

Leaving Methos' room, Duncan almost ran into his cousin. Connor did not appear happy.

"We need to talk."

Duncan sighed. "Yes I suppose we do. Is Joe still up?"

Connor nodded and then led the way back into the drawing room where Joe was waiting in an armchair.

His cousin wasted no time in coming to the point. "You need to be ready. Kronos won't let this go and he has a reputation for scheming. If he were going to outright challenge you, he probably would have been here by now."

"Do you think I don't know that, Connor?"

"He will try to wear you down and now he knows that Methos is your weak spot. He will try to exploit that."

The thought of Methos being hurt again and worse, hurt because of _him_ was sobering to Duncan. His voice was soft as he said again, "I know."


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Thanks so much to AnnP and javana who reviewed

Author's Note: Thanks so much to AnnP and javana who reviewed!! It really means a lot. Sorry that this update was so long in coming, grad school and all that but I'm going to try to make the next ones faster. Please keep reading and review, there will be many more fairy tale components to come!

The next morning, when Duncan awoke alone, he thought that his big bed had never felt so empty before. His sleep had been filled with dreams of Methos, of them together in his bed. Methos above him, impaled on Duncan's hard member, his thighs muscles straining as the younger man rode him faster and faster, Methos' voice begging Duncan to love him.

Duncan swept his hand across the empty expanse beside him, hoping that it was just a matter of time before the dream would become reality. With a sigh, he got up.

Methos entered the breakfast room hesitantly again. His dreams had also been unsettling. He had had erotic dreams before, but this time they were specific. It was Duncan's hands stroking his body, Duncan's plush lips against his own, Duncan's brown eyes that he was staring into.

Methos blushed just at the sight of the man, sitting composedly at the table and looking at him with concern in the dark eyes. He lowered his eyes and slipped silently into his seat.

Duncan noted the blush and smiled, knowing that he was getting to the other man. Unfortunately after breakfast, he had to actually do a little work in his study. He hoped he wasn't imagining the disappointment on Methos' face at the news.

Methos was disappointed, for reasons he didn't understand, simply being in Duncan's company made him happy. Was this love, this joy in the other man's company, in Duncan's looks and conversation and touch?

He didn't know but he tried to distract himself by helping in the kitchen. Mrs. Carmichael at first attempted to dissuade him, but once she realized that he really did want to help and, in fact, had lots of experience, she was only to happy to have the company. Methos chopped vegetables and listened to her gossip. She spoke fondly of Duncan.

Meanwhile, Kronos was plotting. Triggering Methos' immortality would be sure to throw the younger Highlander off. Duncan would be busy trying to teach his pathetic brother the Game and worrying about Methos being picked off by any wandering headhunter. He handed over the purse of coins to the huntsman with a last instruction, "Bring me his heart."

Methos went outside to meet with the huntsman that Mrs. Carmichael occasionally bought fresh wild game from. He was feeling cheerful, and even a little intrepid and so had volunteered to go so the housekeeper could continue stirring the soup for that evening.

The huntsman appeared kindly, rugged and rough-edged. Methos was completely caught off guard by the blow that knocked him to the ground. Unconscious, his hands were bound together and he was dragged over the horse's saddle.

Duncan strode into the kitchen. He was taking a break from his accounting work and wanting to check in on Methos. He laughed at himself, he was eager as a puppy, as a love-struck school boy.

"Mr. MacLeod, have you seen Methos?" Mrs. Carmichael's voice interrupted his happy thoughts.

"What? I came in here to find him."

"Well he was, but I sent him outside to see what the huntsman had today and he never came back."

Duncan had a sinking feeling. He was certain that the young man wouldn't simply wander off. Methos had barely left the house in ten years, he would be too afraid to go off alone.

Taking off at a run for the stables, Duncan yelled for the housekeeper to get Connor. He only took the time to put a bridle on his fastest mare, not a saddle.

Methos came to abruptly, looking up at a canopy of tree branches overhead. Then the huntsman's face came into view and he remembered what had happened. He tried to get up, only then realizing that his hands were tied behind his back and he was lying on them.

The huntsman took out a large knife and pressed the tip to his chest. Methos' eyes widened in terror and his breath quickened. "Don't…please."

The huntsman hesitated, looking down at just a frightened youth…but he had to, if he reneged on his deal, Kronos would certainly kill him, slowly. Hardening his own heart, he thrust the knife into Methos' chest quickly.

Methos was stunned. The pain was intense, every breath an agony. He knew he was going to die, the knife still in his chest the only thing keeping him from bleeding out immediately.

In that moment, all his thoughts were about Duncan, about how he had missed an amazing opportunity. After ten years of pain and loneliness, he had found everything that he could want, but he had let fear keep him from Duncan. Suddenly there was movement above him, but he could barely see, everything was so dark…

Duncan jumped off his horse, coming across them just inside the line of trees. His appearance scared off the huntsman who ran off into the woods, but Duncan barely gave the man a thought. He fell to his knees, but he was afraid to touch Methos, afraid to make his death any more painful. Blood frothed at the pale lips and trickled out the side and he could hear the pained breaths.

He leaned over the man, petting Methos soothingly and kissing a sweat-covered forehead. Taking a breath, he pulled out the knife, wanting it to be over quickly. He watched helplessly as the blood poured out and Methos' body tensed and spasmed in pain. He thought he heard his name as Methos breathed out his last breath.

Afterward it felt very quiet. Duncan was still petting Methos' suddenly lax face. He looked down at the eyes that so captivated him. They had been jade and amber in Methos' fear and pain, but now, without Methos behind them, they were just a mossy brown like the bottom of a river.

Duncan hadn't noticed that he was crying until a drop fell onto Methos' blood covered face. He sat up, gathering the limp form to his chest as he did so. It was silly, to feel like his world had just fallen apart, Methos was going to wake up, he would be fine.

But still Duncan felt like he had failed. It wasn't supposed to be like this, Methos dying alone and afraid in the woods, and not yet. Methos looked so young. He, like Duncan's cousin, Connor, would be trapped in a body barely out of teens. Methos was all long, loose limbs, knees and elbows.

Duncan didn't look up as Connor's horse approached; only responding when he felt his cousin's hand on his shoulder.

"Duncan, come on. You don't want him to wake up like this."

The younger Scotsman nodded rigidly, the tightness in his throat making it impossible to speak.

Connor felt miserable. He had known that something like this would happen but the sight of how broken his cousin appeared…perhaps he needed to rethink Duncan's relationship with the young man.

Reaching down, Connor pried the limp, lanky form from his cousin's arms. Duncan didn't want to let Methos go, he quickly swung up into the saddle and reached again for the young man. He sped back to the estate with Methos in his arms, trusting that Connor would come up with a reasonable excuse for the household staff.


	5. Chapter 5

Duncan was sitting beside Methos on the bed, still compulsively stroking the young man's hair, when Methos drew breath again. Connor had helped Duncan wash Methos' body and tuck him into Duncan's own bed. The younger Highlander had wanted Methos to be comfortable at least when the young man woke to immortality.

As soon as Methos gasped in his first breath, he shot up, flailing frantically in his efforts to get away. Duncan had to hold the young man down with his greater weight as he called Methos' named and told the panicked man that he was safe.

Methos was baffled. As he looked up into Duncan's concerned dark eyes, Methos stilled his movements, suddenly becoming aware of his surroundings. He had been in the woods, hadn't he? Had it all been a dream? Was he dead?

Duncan saw and understood the confusion that filled Methos' again golden eyes. "I can explain, I'll explain everything…"

It took a long time to explain it all. Connor left his cousin to the unenviable task, and going to tell the housekeeper that the two men would not be down to dinner, but that something should be sent up later. Connor sat at a quiet dinner table with the Watcher, Dawson. The mortal was obviously anxious about the situation, feeling responsible for Methos and worrying about the young man's chances in the Game.

Methos was sitting up in bed, staring at his now healed hand in astonishment. Despite Duncan's protestations, he had needed to cut his hand, to see his own flesh healing.

"So I could live forever or someone could kill me tomorrow?"

Duncan was miserable as he nodded yes. How could he have let this happen? He was supposed to protect Methos, but he hadn't managed to keep the young man safe for more than one day! He wouldn't be surprised if Methos refused to speak to him ever again.

Methos smiled. No matter how long he had left, he knew how he wanted to spend it. He reached out a hand to stroke cautiously down Duncan's cheek and then leaned in for a gentle kiss.

Startled, Duncan pulled away from the kiss immediately. "You're upset, you don't…"

Methos didn't remove his hand from the other man's cheek. How could he put into words what he felt, what he wanted? "Out there, when I thought…Duncan, I want to be with you, please, don't send me away."

Duncan looked into earnest and distraught green eyes and knew he could refuse Methos nothing. God help him, but he just didn't have the strength to say no, even if Methos would regret this later.

Reaching up his own hands to cradle the younger man's face, Duncan kissed first the younger man's forehead and then Methos' lips. His kiss was demanding, but Methos opened his lips immediately, granting him entry. His hands skimmed down the long, elegant neck and down to Methos' chest. He found the nipples there and began teasing them with his fingers, lightly scratching them, and then gently tugging them between his thumb and forefinger.

Methos' body jerked involuntarily as the sensation seemed to jolt straight to his groin. His hips rocked forward seeking friction.

Duncan smiled and moved his hands to Methos' back, laying the smaller man back down on the bed. Slowly, he pulled the sheets away, unveiling his soon to be lover's body inch by tantalizing inch.

Quickly, Duncan removed his own clothes, his eyes never leaving his soon to be lover. Methos' own gaze was just as avid, staring openly at the dusky skin, his gaze lingering on Duncan's erect cock. He had never seen another man naked before, but he wasn't scared, he was excited.

Duncan lay carefully down on the bed next to Methos. First his hand explored the lean hairless chest, followed by his lips as he covered Methos with his own body. He knew his hands were gripping Methos too roughly, his kisses were too forceful, but he couldn't stop himself, not while hearing Methos' moans and pants, feeling the body under him straining upwards, seeking more. Methos was so responsive.

The older immortal wanted to mark his lover, even knowing that the marks would fade all too soon. Duncan wanted to be Methos' first and his only, the only one who would ever touch the young man like this.

Methos whole body arched as the wet heat of Duncan's mouth engulfed his sex. He had never felt anything like this before. The younger man felt like he was drowning in sensation, his every muscle stretched taut, waiting to snap…and then he came with a cry, with Duncan's name on his lips.

But Duncan didn't stop. Methos' head tossed on the pillow as the older man nuzzled the fine hairs at his groin. Panting, he reached down a hand, long fingers burying themselves in Duncan's hair.

Methos felt his lover smile against his inner thigh and he smiled himself. He smiled until he felt a teasing touch against his entrance that caused him to gasp involuntarily. By instinct, Methos drew his legs towards his chest, holding himself open to the Highlander.

Duncan was amazed and touched at the trust the young man was showing him, this young man who had had no one to trust, no one to turn to in ten long years, who had his childish innocence ripped away, his belief in the fairy tale ending. But Methos was reaching out to him, opening up to him and Duncan wanted so much to be worthy.

Reaching over to the bedside table, the Scotsman retrieved a small, green vial. Methos watched in confusion as Duncan poured the contents on his fingers, but then those fingers were back on his anus. One slipped in.

Methos didn't know what to do. Instinctually, he thought to push the invader out, but emotionally he wanted to take all of Duncan in. The other man rotated the finger, pulling it out and pushing it back in a little father each time.

And then the finger touched something inside, something that caused him to jerk hard and caused fiery sparks of pleasure to burn through his whole body.

Duncan stretched his lover carefully, thoroughly, making sure to touch the man's prostate every so often. He wanted so badly to be inside the other man but he wanted it to be good for Methos too. Pulling out his fingers, he kissed the younger immortal as he placed his own sex at Methos' entrance.

"Duncan?" Methos felt slightly nervous, he had never done anything like this. He wanted to trust Duncan, but he wasn't sure that the other man's thick member would fit there.

"God, I want to make love to you, be inside you." Methos nodded before Duncan had even finished speaking, he wanted that too.

"Shh, just relax, that's it." Duncan murmured as he pushed inside slowly. "Unh, you feel amazing, Methos."

Methos nodded, unable to speak, Duncan's words as much a caress to his senses as everything else that the older man had been doing. He wrapped his legs around the brawnier Highlander, pulling the older man deeper in. It burned, but the young man was used to pain, what he couldn't get enough of was this feeling of being connected, of being _loved_.

Duncan rolled his hips forward, putting pressure on Methos' prostate again, reviving his partner's flagging erection. His thrusts were slow and deep, bringing them both to the edge quickly. He held off his own completion, reaching between their bodies to grasp Methos' cock, stroking it in time, and bringing the other man to climax with a final twist of his hand.

Methos clung to his lover as he felt the thrust become erratic, watching Duncan's face as it contorted in pleasure. He felt strangely proud.

Fear crept into Methos' world again then. He didn't want this feeling to end, he didn't want Duncan to let him go.

But just as in everything else, Duncan noticed his lover's apprehension. He wrapped up the smaller man in his arms before withdrawing his softening cock and then maneuvered them so that he was lying on his back with Methos lying on his chest. Duncan was fairly sure he felt the younger man smile before he fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Note: If you even still care about this story, I have no excuse for its extreme tardiness. I just couldn't come up with the plot for these last parts, but I'm on it now. _

Things changed drastically after Methos' first death. Duncan decided not to teach Methos sword skills himself. He cautiously handed the task over to Connor, knowing that he was too involved to be a good teacher.

Connor had approved, even though he wasn't thrilled to be the young man's teacher.

Duncan and Joe were both nervous about Methos' first lessons, worried that Connor's techniques would be to much for the skittish infant immortal and knowing that Methos' very survival depended on how well he took to the lessons.

Methos, however, was nothing but excited at the prospect. Since his awakening as an immortal, he had been more confident, more willing to try new things. He was not discouraged by Connor's tough lessons and minimal praise. Methos had experienced hard task masters before and was nothing if not determined.

Duncan was convinced, as was Connor and Joe, that Kronos was behind Methos' murder, though there was no proof. Frighteningly though, there had been no other attacks, no other word from the other immortal.

Training wasn't the only thing that had changed. Methos now slept in Duncan's room, the two men acting like newlyweds. Duncan would corner Methos after training, when Methos' body was still slick with sweat. He would pull Methos back down on the mats, spread his lover out beneath him and drive his lover crazy, wanting to see Methos arch and writhe.

Methos would corner Duncan in the older man's office, kneeling between Duncan's spread thighs as Duncan sat in his office chair, wanting to hear the other man's deep groans of pleasure, Duncan pleas for release. They splashed about in the bath, making a mess that Mrs. Carmichael chided them over with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye.

And at night, they lay down together, wrapped around each other whether in sleep or engaged in other activities. Methos learned to give and receive pleasure in that bed, learned what it felt like to surrender completely to his lover, what it felt like to have Duncan so deep inside the cries of their passion sounded down the hallways, what it felt like to have Duncan completely surround him, to have another show the same trust in him.

Connor grumbled and Joe chuckled as the two blushed and fumbled with each other, and cuddled on the couch in the library.

Three months into training, Duncan decided that Methos, that they all deserved a night out. He had bought tickets to the theater. The Highland warrior felt confident that with two immortals and Joe with his pistol would be fully able to protect their protégé.

It had been ten years since Methos had been in a coach, not since that fateful night and though he was anxious about the experience, he was also excited. He felt like he had been reborn, given a second chance at life and love and he didn't want to waste it being afraid of every little thing.

It had also been ten years since he had been to town or the theater. The play had been wonderful, a comedy and the players excellent. It wasn't until they were leaving that the three immortals felt another of their kind.

Duncan wasted no time, insisting that Connor and Joe keep Methos in the theater until he returned, despite Methos' adamant request that they simply avoid the confrontation and return home.

Methos was terrified at the idea of losing Duncan. It hadn't been until that moment that Methos had realized that being an immortal meant not only facing death himself, but watching Duncan and his other loved ones face it as well, whether through a challenge or simply through the passage of time.

It was an uncomfortable realization, particularly as it was clear that Duncan was not in the habit of avoiding confrontation.

Joe seemed to sense Methos' feelings and stood close, attempting to reassure the younger man with a hand to Methos' arm.

Duncan strode out of the theater, not surprised in the least when he realized the sensation was emanating from a figure down a dark, deserted alleyway. What he was not expecting however, was for the figure to be a woman.

She was beautiful, tall, dark with striking eyes that seemed to sear into his soul. He approached her cautiously, not reaching for his sword.

"I didn't come for a fight," he said.

"Good. Neither did I." Her voice was clear and powerful.

Duncan relaxed minutely at her words, walking closer to the unknown woman.

"I came to deliver a message."

She moved rapidly then, catching him off guard as he realized too late that he was within striking distance.

But she hadn't drawn a sword, instead striking out with only a needle clasped in her hand, scratching Duncan's arm with it. The woman disappeared before Duncan collapsed unconscious to the ground.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

It had been ten minutes and Methos refused to wait another second.

"Kill me then! I'm going to find him!" He shouted.

"Fine," Connor growled. "We will all go." He looked to Joe for confirmation and received a nod.

Duncan wasn't difficult to find, his buzz still strong, but Connor knew that something was wrong when he saw his kinsman lying on the cobbled street.

Methos, of course, ran immediately to his fallen lover, leaving Connor to scan the area for any threats. There were none.

Duncan was breathing, but didn't respond when Methos called his name, slapped his cheek. Nothing any of the three of them did, managed to rouse the slumbering Scotsman.

Finally, there was nothing to do but return home. Methos with tears in his eyes, lifted Duncan's torso while Connor took the man's legs. The return home was much more somber, with Duncan propped against Methos' side.

Back the estate, the three tried even more things to wake Duncan: hot water, cold water, poking him with pins, even killing the other immortal. Duncan revived as usual, but the immortal still slept.

They were at a loss as to what to do. Joe and Methos had spent hours in the library pouring over every book they could think of but found nothing of use.

A week later, at their wits end, Connor decided to go to Kronos himself, attack first while the other man was unaware. It wasn't his best plan…

After Connor left, Methos snuck out of the estate himself. When he was a boy he had heard stories, stories of a woman who lived in the woods, who cast spells. A witch. It was said that her spells carried a steep price, but right then, Methos would give anything to see Duncan awake again, smile again, laugh.

When Joe had fallen asleep in his reading chair, Methos snuck out and saddled a pale horse that Duncan had given to him. Her hideout wouldn't be easy to find, but if he remembered correctly…

It was nearly dark when he found the cave, hidden from casual observers with boulders and hanging branches. Cautiously, Methos started down the dark tunnel, barely able to see to be able to put one foot in front of the other, but able to see light up ahead.

Willing his voice not to shake with fear, Methos called out, "Hello? Is anyone here? I need your help!"

He was not expecting the buzz of another immortal to hit him halfway down the tunnel.


	7. Chapter 7

Now Methos was really afraid, his eyes flickering around the tunnel as if he would suddenly be able to see in the dark. Silently, he pulled his sword from its sheath, even as he called out, "I'm not here for a fight!"

It was a woman's voice that answered, calm and powerful. "Good, because then I wouldn't help you."

Not putting away his sword yet, Methos finally stepped into the light, a wider portion of the cave filled with any number of odd and macabre objects: black and red candles, herbs hanging from the ceiling, animal skulls, jars of coins.

She was dark and foreboding. Dark eyes outlined in kohl, dark hair swept over her shoulder, a long dark dress on that revealed the curves of her body.

"My name is Methos and I came because…"

"I know why you came," she interrupted. "Your lover, Duncan, has fallen under a spell."

Dumbfounded, Methos nodded mutely.

"And you need my help to reverse it, which I will gladly do, but…there is a price."

Again Methos nodded, before attempting to find his voice. "Name it," he said.

She smiled then at his eagerness, his recklessness. "Your voice."

Methos gaped, startled by her request. "Is that all?" he finally croaked.

He had been certain that she would ask for something else, something more, his immortality, his life, an arm or a leg. Losing his voice wouldn't be so bad.

But her smile unnerved him. Still, there was no other choice, he had no other options to help Duncan.

"Your voice." She repeated.

"Yes."

His answer was a binding agreement and before Methos even knew what was happening, a mist began to swirl around his feet. The mist wasn't wet, it was dry, seemingly sparking with electricity. It coalesced and twisted itself around him.

He screamed when he felt like it was shocking his throat, but the sound was carried away from him, until though his mouth was still open, no sound was coming out. The sound of his screams was instead echoing around the room from the smoke.

The witch caught the sound in a plain looking jar.

Closing his mouth, Methos didn't know what to do. It was done, his voice gone. Could he leave now?

The witch laughed, an eerie sound. Then she spoke.

"Better hurry back to your lover. You never know how long either of you will live."

He ran back out the tunnel, the sound of her laughter following him.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Connor entered his cousin's estate feeling bewildered. Kronos and his lackey, Silas, had not been at their estate. It made him very suspicious indeed.

He had barely entered the house, when he heard shouting. Moving quickly but not outright running, he recognized Methos' voice for help…from the library.

Connor didn't think a thing of it when he felt the immortal presence, didn't notice anything was wrong until he was bashed in the back of his head as he entered the doorway.

Duncan awoke to an empty bedchamber and the sound of shouting. Disoriented he scrambled immediately around the room for his sword, fortunately finding it propped against the wall to the side of the bed.

He had just drawn the katana when Kronos stepped into the room, sneering.

Kronos opened his mouth, expected challenging words falling from his lips.

"Duncan MacLeod…we meet again. I've come to take back what is mine, piece by piece if necessary."

But it wasn't Kronos' voice that Duncan heard. It was Methos'. Even more confused now and worried for what could have befallen his lover, Duncan moved forward.

"What did you do?"

Kronos laughed. "Come out here and see."

Cautiously, Duncan followed Kronos out the door, down the stairs into the foyer. It was there that he saw both his cousin and Joseph unconscious and tied to chairs, Silas standing over them with his battle-ax at the ready. Methos was nowhere in sight.

Kronos watched Duncan's expression with shrewd and arrogant eyes.

"Lay down your sword, or your cousin and Watcher die."

Duncan gasped. Sacrifice himself or watch his kinsman die? It was an impossible choice.

Just then Methos burst into the front room, panting heavily as he had run back to the house from the stable.

Duncan almost collapsed from relief at seeing his lover alive still. It was Kronos who spoke first though.

"Ah, brother. Just in time to watch your lover die. I'll deal with you in a minute."

Methos took in the scene before him. Kronos was obviously challenging Duncan, but Silas was standing over the incapacitated Connor. Silas looked ready to strike without giving the other immortal a fighting chance.

Slowly Methos drew his own broadsword.

"What are you doing, brother?" Silas queried, in his slow caring voice.

"I am not your brother," Methos yelled just before attacking the larger immortal.

Duncan and Kronos, not to mention Silas himself, were stunned. Duncan no longer had any choice, he had to fight and pray that Connor had taught Methos enough that his lover had a fighting chance.

He fought with everything that he had, ignoring Kronos' taunts still in Methos' voice. He did, however, occasionally look to Methos' fight with Silas. Duncan had never actually seen Methos fight before, but Methos was so new and inexperienced. Silas was so much bigger and stronger.

He was surprised to find Methos holding his own. The leaner immortal was faster, smarter, and more flexible.

It was a hard fight, Kronos was a skilled swordsman despite his reliance on schemes. But just as Caspian had been, he was overconfident. Duncan landed the killing blow.

Duncan was looking for Methos even before the head had hit the ground. Shock was not the word as he watched Silas' head fall at the same time.

Methos turned to him with wide panicked eyes. But Duncan had no time to reassure the new immortal. The mist rose around both lovers, even mixing together. And when the quickening hit, it attacked them both. For a moment, they were connected, not only by the quickening of the immortals that had fallen, but connected by their own quickenings too.

Methos stayed on his knees as the quickening finished. The tears started immediately, tears of relief that he and Duncan and Connor and Joe were all alive, tears of grief that he had been forced to take the life of the brother that had been kind to him.

Duncan lifted his own head to see Connor staring at him, having regained consciousness sometime during the battle. He cut his cousin loose quickly before going to his lovers' side. Methos turned his face to Duncan's shoulder, surprising them all when he said, "But I liked Silas."

The spell had been broken. Duncan would have to ask what exactly had gone on since the play but right then he simply held his lover tight. Methos understood now exactly what it meant to be an immortal and for that Duncan was very sorry.

But now they were connected, by more than love. Their quickenings had mixed and though Duncan was not at all sure what that meant, he was more than happy to share everything of himself with Methos. And hopefully they would have a good long time to be happy together.

_Hah, it's done. See I really do mean it when I say that I will finish all of my stories eventually. Hopefully the end didn't suck. _


End file.
